


Pretend I'm Still Here

by rapono



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Grief/Mourning, M/M, Possession, Pretending someone isn't dead, identity theft, lying
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-15
Updated: 2017-11-23
Packaged: 2018-09-17 18:09:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 10
Words: 12,359
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9336731
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rapono/pseuds/rapono
Summary: Wherever the Soldier went, the Reaper followed. But this time, he didn't follow closely enough. So in a moment of grief, Death created a lie.





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Story idea I had the desire to write. If enough people show interest, I'll turn this one-shot into a multi-chapter fic.
> 
> Enjoy!

Another abandoned overwatch base, with the alluring possibility of forgotten secrets inside. The Reaper was almost there. He'd been hitting all the same places as the infamous Soldier 76. But he knew who was behind that mask.  
  
Overwatch's golden boy, Jack Morrison.  
  
His former lover.  
  
He couldn't help himself but chase the now silver-haired man. He'd taunt him, scar him, but couldn't pull the trigger. Reaper had thought Jack dead, and he couldn't let that be a reality.  
  
So instead he'd play this game of cat and mouse, until he felt the time was right to let him know. To let Jack know he wasn't really dead either.  
  
But not yet.  
  
Reaper soon found himself outside the former base, metal boots clicking on the concrete.  
  
It was too quiet.  
  
Had he been wrong? Was Jack not here yet? Had he missed him? Or was he already deep inside?  
  
Likely that last one. He entered the building, the sense of unease still very strong.  
  
Apart from himself, the silence remained. Not a single sound that would be a sign of another presence within. It was dark and cold inside.  
  
Reaper noticed something on the floor. A clip. More specifically, an empty ammo clip of a pulse rifle. Jack's pulse rifle.  
  
Maybe Jack had already been here and left.  
  
He was about to decide that was the reason, when it hit him; Jack had been firing at someone, meaning he had been attacked or had attacked.  
  
No one was supposed to be here.  
  
Reaper's pace quickened.  
  
It didn't take long for him to spot the figure of a slumped body.  
  
_Please, don't let it be Morrison._ He prayed as he approached the unmoving person. But as he got closer, his worst fears were confirmed.  
  
Soldier 76 lay slumped against a wall, a hole through his chest, a lifeless look in his azure eyes.  
  
Jack Morrison was dead.  
  
_No no no no no..._  
  
He knelt in front of his lover's corpse. It was okay, he could fix this. He could snatch Morrison's soul and repair his body, then put it back. Yeah, he could fix this.  
  
He searched for the ethereal orb that would linger by the body. _...Where was it?_ Reaper couldn't find the Soldier's soul. It took another minute of desperate searching for the horrid realization to strike him.  
  
He was too late. Jack's soul had already passed on.  
  
The Reaper gripped Morrison's coat, tears building up in his demonic eyes, and screamed. The shriek was full of raw emotion, all his grief put into a sound that tore itself out of his throat.  
  
It lasted until he was panting and exhausted, out of breath and throat sore. And it wasn't until he had quieted down that he heard the faint sound of a voice.  
  
It came from Morrison's mask. His commlink. Reaper slowly picked up the mask, and brought it to his ear.  
  
"Jack are you okay? What was that noise?"  
  
It was Angela's voice.  
  
"Please answer me Jack!"  
  
A part of him wanted to talk into the comm tell her Morrison was dead, gloat that she couldn't save him. But he couldn't. Not when he himself was hurting.  
  
An awful idea came to him.  
  
Nobody would miss the Reaper, but many would miss the Soldier. Maybe, he could pretend to be Morrison, use his body like a puppet. Besides, nobody had known Jack better than Gabriel.  
  
And nobody was left to weep if the Reaper disappeared.  
  
Putting Morrison's mask down, he began to strip himself of his cloak and gear. It made possession easier, especially long term.  
  
When he took his own mask off, he stared at Jack's slack face. Was he really doing this? Was he really going to become his lover, puppeteer his body and pretend that he was alive, just so others would not weep for him? Heh, he was getting soft.  
  
But he had already made up his mind. Reaper dissolved his own body into a black smoke, then poured himself into Morrison's nose and mouth, filling his unmoving lungs. His unstable cells fused to Jack's dying ones, invigorating them with a pseudo life. Soldier 76's body twitched, his irises shifting from a fading blue to a deep crimson.  
  
Morrison's eyes fluttered and he blinked, coughing up a little bit of black fluid. Smoke wisped off the soldier's wounds, the bullet hole through his heart slowly beginning to repair itself. He stretched his formerly stiffening limbs, then picked up his mask and put it on.  
  
"Jack! Please tell me you aren't dead."  
  
A pang of sadness and guilt struck him.  
  
"I'm alright Angela," it felt so wrong hearing his words in Jack's voice. He suppressed the urge to vomit. "Just got into a little scuffle with the Reaper."  
  
He could hear her sigh of relief. "Did you find anything there?"  
  
"No. Place was already cleaned." He picked up the pulse rifle, which had been discarded a little ways away from him.  
  
"Guess that's to be expected. Get back to base as soon as you can."  
  
"Don't worry, I'm on my way."  
  
As soon as the comm turned off, Gabriel screamed again. Jack's cry filled his ears.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Now that he has become Jack, he must return to the base.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You people love this story, so I'm giving you more.
> 
> (Beta-read by one of my wonderful RP partners.)

He'd left his gear on the floor where he had discarded it. A part of him wanted to bring it with him, especially the mask, and announce that the Reaper was gone. But that would leave the members of Overwatch with too many questions, too many suspicions. So he simply left them, near the empty clips and bloodstain on the wall.  
  
Reaper... Gabriel... _Jack_ was in a small, one toilet restroom, inspecting himself in the mirror before he _returned_ to the base. His formerly blue eyes were now a red. He tried, but he couldn't fix that. In time, he could brush the color change off. He had another problem to deal with.  
  
His 76 jacket had two holes in it, one in the back and the other in the front, both stained with dried auburn blood. Anyone who would get a good look at the coat could figure out he had been shot. And Angela would be too suspicious.  
  
As much as he didn't want to, he'd have to take the jacket off.  
  
Striping off his top, he checked wound.  
  
The flesh had fully healed, heart beating like it had never been torn apart by lead. The healed flesh however was still discolored, a dead grey. It would return to its normal shade in time.  
  
Jack coughed up a bit of black mucus. _Ugh._  
  
He changed into a black leather jacket and put on a pair of shades. _I wanted to make sure I wasn't being followed_ , was the excuse that arose within his mind. It should work.  
  
He looked at the damaged coat in his hands. He, he couldn't discard it. Maybe Jack had more, but, he couldn't.  
  
He folded it and placed it in his pack, along with his mask and rifle. He made sure to fold it in a way that didn't show the damage.  
  
Now the next problem arose. Getting _back_ to base. Or more specifically, remembering where it was.  
  
Memories were tricky. Despite being electric pathways in the brain, they were also inscribed in the owner's soul. A disembodied soul still knew who it was.  
  
It was always difficult to access the memories of someone he was possessing. Usually the owner's soul would try to prevent him from accessing them, and it always was too tiring and time-consuming to access a single memory. He would usually ask the possessed's friends about things he wanted to remember.  
  
But he'd never possessed a dead body before.  
  
There was nothing to stop him from accessing the memories the brain held. Instead, a new problem arose.  
  
Jack's memories were fuzzy, like an old rabbit ear antenna tv that struggled get the channel's signal. The imagery was blurry and full of static, the audio distorted and sometimes missing.  
  
His hands were shaking.  
  
He needed to concentrate, focus specifically on any memory that held the base's location. It took a good half hour, but eventually he put enough pieces together to figure out where to go.  
  
Jack arrived at the hidden entrance the next day. Remembering a hazy memory, he inputed a code into the panel, and he was in.  
  
He couldn't help but hesitate. He was really doing this.  
  
He entered the base.  
  
The first person that greeted him was Angela. Jack resisted recoiling from her approach. She smiled warmly at him, before giving him a questioning look.  
  
"Why are you not wearing your usual gear?"  
  
He gave the answer he had planned to give.  
  
"I wanted to make sure I wasn't being followed."  
  
She nodded, not questioning his reasoning. "Winston is waiting for you to give a summary of the mission. Come see me for a medical check-up afterwards."  
  
"Understood." He should've expected that a check up would be mandatory after a mission, especially since he mentioned getting into a fight. He sighed, then headed towards the debriefing room.  
  
Winston was waiting inside, seemingly scrolling through a document on a datapad while he was waiting. The gorilla smiled at Jack.  
  
It felt so unsettling for people to be nice to him, to smile when he entered a room. Reaper constantly had to remind himself who was was. That happiness was not for him.  
  
This would take too long to get used to.  
  
"Hello Jack. How are you feeling?"  
  
"Not too bad."  
  
"So..." Winston placed the datapad on the table, giving Jack his full attention, "...how did the mission go?"  
  
Jack took a moment to recollect his thoughts.  
  
"Mission started normal, no security, apart from locked doors and barbed wire." Flickering and hazy memories played in his mind's eye. He could just barely make out the old base, but it was definitely the one.  
  
"I got inside without a problem. However, as I was headed towards the records room..." Jack's memories were blank past that point, too distorted to access. _Who? What had happened?_  
  
He quickly realized that Winston was staring at him awkwardly. He cleared his throat as an excuse for the abrupt silence, then continued the story.  
  
"...the Reaper attacked me. I got away with minimal injury, a few cuts and bruises, but based the was he acted, I seemed to had done a number to the Reaper. He fled after our encounter. When I went to checked the records, there was nothing of use left. That's why I'm returning empty handed."  
  
Winston nodded, then entered the mission's summary into the datapad. He too, gave Jack a look that seemed to question his outfit.  
  
"Had some suspicions I was being followed."  
  
The gorilla also accepted his answer.  
  
With nothing more needing to be said, Jack hastily left the room. Once out of sight, he felt tension melt out of his sore body, until he remembered. The medical.  
  
He'd have to go, or else risk rising more suspicions. Some symptoms of his possession could be brushed off as side-effects from his scuffle with... _Jack's_ scuffle with the Reaper. But he knew that excuse couldn't last him forever.  
  
He dropped his pack off at Jack's room, tossing it under the bed. The room itself took some wandering and memory searching to find, the passage of time making him a little anxious. Couldn't risk her finding the damaged jacket, but he didn't want to keep her waiting. And with that task out of the way, he found himself at the entrance of the medical ward.  
  
Letting out a deep breath in an effort to release some tension and calm his nerves, he knocked on the door.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jack's body is examined.

"Come in." Came her gentle voice behind the door. He waited another moment, before entering.  
  
"Ah." She smiled at him, causing unease to rot in his stomach. But nothing was wrong. "How did the mission go Jack? You did mention you were possibly being followed."  
  
"Not well. It could've gone alot worse, but my reward was nothing. The data was already gone."  
  
"That's a shame." She motioned for him to sit on the medical bed. "Now don't make a big fuss about being fine Jack, you did say you fought Reaper, and you never make it out of a fight with him unharmed."  
  
He sweat nervously, guilt devouring the unease and festering in his gut. He'd always _had_ a desire to leave the Soldier at least grazed or a little scratched up whenever they met. First it had been in an attempt to end his life, for the purpose of revenge, but as time went on...  
  
Angela removed his sunglasses. Jack squinted at the sudden increase of light shining in his eyes, but also to hide his irises. She simply smirked at his reaction, seemingly not noticing them yet. She inspected his face and head closely.  
  
"No head injuries, good." She wrote down that info in the medical report, then looked at him expectingly.  
  
"Now come on Jack, you know you have to strip down to your undergarments so I can make sure you're not wounded. Don't be a stubborn fool."  
  
He sighed. Avoiding eye contact, he began to remove his clothes, carefully yet quickly. It felt wrong to expose Jack's body, but it had to be done.  
  
Now in nothing but his boxers, Angela began to comb over his exposed skin, searching for any sort of wound, whether it be a cut, scrape, or bruise. It didn't take her long to find the patches of discolored flesh.  
  
"Jack..." She poked experimentally at the grayish skin. "...were you aware of your discolored skin?"  
  
Time for more fabricated truths to spill out of his deceased lover's mouth. "No, I didn't notice. He did punch me there, I think. Not exactly sure what that monster did to me, but it sure felt like a blow to the chest."  
  
She prodded it some more. "Well the good news is that it feels and acts like living flesh, despite it looking similar to dead flesh."  
  
Angela fetched an empty needle from her medical supplies, dabbing the grayish skin with a cotton swab. It wasn't hard to figure out what she wanted.  
  
"Sit still Jack. I'm going to take a blood sample of this suspicious discolorment, just to make sure you aren't infected with anything."  
  
Jack didn't even react to the needle entering his pect. The tiny pinprick of pain was absolutely nothing in comparison to living as the Reaper.  
  
Once Angela had removed enough blood for testing, she swabbed up the bead of blood, before putting a small round bandaid over the wound.  
  
"As soon as I get some results, I will let y-"  
  
Angela placed the blood-filled needle down on the table slowly. Jack raised an eyebrow, but then did his best poker face as the realization struck him like lightning.  
  
They were making eye contract.  
  
He broke the silence first.  
  
"What?"  
  
"Your eyes. They're red."  
  
Those years of work as the the leader of Blackwatch should've gotten him an award in acting. After all, if you're part of a covert operation, you needed to accel at pretending to successfully pull the mission off.  
  
And this was his final grand covert mission.  
  
"...what?" His expression changed to one of shock.  
  
She grasped the sides of his head, gazing deeply into his eyes. It wasn't romantic, instead tense, the air between them filling with fear.  
  
"Please don't stick a needle in my eyes, I need them while they still function."  
  
A ghost of a smile found itself of the edges of her lips, but quickly disappeared.  
  
"What did he do to you?" She whispered.  
  
_Who killed you?_ Gabriel silently asked the corpse he wore, almost echoing Angela's words, yet also not quite directed at the same thing.  
  
The answer was a file that had been uprutly closed while saving, corrupting it. But a file in the mind, not a computer.  
  
"I don't know." Jack said cooly. "I already told you what I thought happened."  
  
Angela released his face, a momentary look of defeat on her own face. She took out a special camera with a bio-sanner attached to it, and took images of his eyes and strange flesh patches. After making sure the images were perfect, she continued to write in the medical record.  
  
"You may go now. Let me know if you feel strange in anyway, and I'll let you know what the results bring up." Her voice was methodical, yet there was a hint in exhaustion.  
  
"I understand."  
  
He nodded, not that she was looking at him anymore, now staring silently at her report, both hands on the table, her posture slightly slumped. He dressed himself, not bothering to put the sunglasses back on. Instead he stashed them in one of the jacket's pockets.  
  
No one bothered him as he returned to the room.  
  
Curious, he checked beneath the bandaid Angela had given him. It was was just as he had suspected.  
  
The wound was fully healed, not a single trace that the flesh was ever punctured.  
  
He tossed the bandaid into the waste bin, and crashed onto Jack's bed. He felt tired, sore, and worn out in every way. Possession was exhausting, especially long term. He checked the time.  
  
8:23pm. He could sleep right now, if he wished. Jack's body was screaming yes.  
  
So, bedtime preparation. Jack would always brush his teeth before heading to bed (he would know). So with a sigh, he got up and headed into the small bathtroom within his quarters.  
  
His reformed heart still skipped a beat once when he saw his reflection. Quickly distracting his anxious thoughts with the task ahead, he squeezed some of the paste onto the brush and began to cleanse his teeth.  
  
Gabriel didn't even have to peek at the memories in the brain he occupied to know exactly how Jack's brushing routine went. Too many nights waiting to embrace him in sleep.  
  
The task was done quickly. Gargling and spitting out some water to remove the excess toothpaste, he cleaned the brush and put it and the paste where they had been just before. A yawn stretched his jaw, and he lumbered back to the bed.  
  
Jack stripped to his briefs, and quickly nestled himself beneath the covers. The bed felt too cold and empty, especially with the smell of Morrison filling his nose.  
  
The Reaper wearing the Soldier's skin tossed and turned, before finally settling. A part of him knew he'd forgot who he was in the morning, be it for all but a moment. And it would hit him all over again.  
  
As his consciousness slipped, Gabriel wished for peaceful and dreamless sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Got any ideas for what Gabri-Jack should do next? Write a comment.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Morrison had made a promise to Hana.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long wait, life happened and I got writer's block. But thankfully, it's 3am, so that means I actually finished the chapter.
> 
> I'd like to thank _@calmAnarchist_ for the suggestion, you helped me get out of my writer's block.

Gabriel was just outside the Overwatch base, seated beside the love of his life, fingers entwined. The sun was warm on their skin, as Jack whispered something he couldn't quite understand into his ear. Regardless of what was said, he laughed, Jack joining him. Joy filled Gabe's chest.  
  
Jack leaned towards him, face close, desiring a kiss. He fulfilled that desire,  lips locking and hands coming apart, so they could grasp each other in the embrace. Jack gripped his face hard, deepening the kiss. Gabe kissed back passionately, but something felt off.  
  
Blood started to pour out of Morrison's mouth and into Reyes', who, at the taste of iron, tried to pull away. But Morrison wouldn't let him, forcing his blood into Gabe's mouth, keeping their lips locked.  
  
_What the hell-_  
  
Gabriel started gagging, as he struggled desperately to be free. He kneed Jack in the gut, which only caused more of the thick fluid to pour down his throat. With each breath becoming more painful, he clawed at his lover's face and hands, letting out muffled and gurgling cries. His consciousness was threatening to slip, his body starting to numb.  
  
_Why...?_  
  
Vision fading, he looked into Jack's eyes. They were the eyes of a demon.  
  
With one last convulsion, Gabriel's body gave up.  
  
"...ake up old man!"  
  
Gabriel groaned, coughing up thick black fluid, joints sore. Ugh, he didn't normally feel like that when waking up. Damned nightmares. Regardless, he needed to get Sombra to sto...  
  
Wait.  
  
Reality hit him in the gut as he bolted into an upright position, soon followed by a dizzying headache.  
  
He was Jack. He was in Jack's room, in an Overwatch base. Hana Song was yelling at him.  
  
He groaned as the young woman continued to yell at his door.  
  
"Alright, alright, I'm awake. I'll be out in a few."  
  
That seemed to quiet her down.  
  
Gabe lumbered out of bed, deciding to check on the wounds before getting dressed. Traces of the former chest wound were almost completely gone now, the remaining discolorment only noticeable to a trained eye.  
  
Relieved, he began to search through Jack's dresser, changing into a new pair of underwear, and a casual top and jeans.  
  
Once dressed, he glanced at the mirror one last time. His irises remained crimson. He felt the temptation to put on sunglasses to cover them again, but then again, it would only draw attention to his eyes, especially if he wore them indoors.  
  
Letting out a deep breath, he opened the door. Hana was waiting just outside, her face twisted into a pout, arms crossed.  
  
"What took you so long?"  
  
He took a moment to think of an answer.  
  
"The mission wiped me out. Needed a good rest."  
  
She shrugged. "Well, at least you're gonna keep your promise. Come on, Lúce is waiting for us."  
  
_Promise? What could Morrison have possibly promised the young korean?_  
  
Hana pulled him all the way to the games room, grip tight on his arm. Inside, Lúcio was checking controllers, as the menu screen of Mario Kart Wii displayed on the TV screen. Each remote appeared to be inside a steering wheel-like extension.  
  
_Wait, was the promise... to play an old Mario Kart game with them?_  
  
Lúcio looked up at him, smiling.  
  
"What took you guys so long?" The DJ inquired.  
  
"This old fart was sleeping in." Jack sighed heavily, but didn't vocally complain about the nickname. "Everything ready to go?"  
  
"Yep, the remotes are all fully charged. Just remember to be careful, it's very easy to active the B button with the wheel on." Jack felt like that last comment was directed towards him.  
  
Approaching the table, he picked up one of the remotes, looking it over in slight confusion. Memories of the console were vague, both in his own recollection and the brain he occupied. It wasn't too hard to figure out basic functions of the controller just by looking at it, but he'd definitely need a refresher if he were to properly play the retro racing game.  
  
"Hey Hana, what do the buttons do again?"  
  
She gave a slightly annoyed sigh, as if she had previously told him (which Gabriel didn't doubt), and told him what each button did in-game.  
  
"...And since we're gonna be using tilt controls, you're gonna have to tilt the remote side to side like a real steering wheel."  
  
"Just don't tilt too much, or you won't turn properly." The musician added.  
  
And soon enough, they went right into the game. Looking at the large selection of characters available, he ended up choosing Dry Bowser. He found the design... appealing. Next he picked a fitting vehicle, followed by a menu prompting each player with two choices. Lúcio recommended that he use _Automatic_ , since he was a beginner, and Manual was for more experienced players (proven that both the DJ and Hana chose that mode).  
  
The following selection was maps. Morrison tried pressing buttons, but the game didn't respond. However, it did respond to Lúcio.  
  
The stage he chose was titled _Luigi Curcuit_ , and as the raceway was presented with a short cutscene, it proved to be simple and straightforward. The screen quickly split into different perspectives, one square for each player.  
  
Uncertainty fluttered in his chest, as he held the wheel upright, and the race began.  
  
First race, he managed to nab 10th place. The second, 8th. Third was just barely a 7th placing. But in the end, Hana was 1st, Lúcio a close second, and Jack came in 9th.  
  
"Not bad old man."  
  
He placed the remote back on the table. "The responsiveness was awful, it was so difficult to properly steer the vehicle."  
  
"I know, that's what makes it fun. But still, you rocked those outdated tilt controls for a beginner dude!"  
  
A smile stretched the corner of his lips as he scoffed.  
  
"To be honest," Hana said, "I'm just glad you actually came. You always seem to be too busy to hang and chill."  
  
A pang hit him in the chest. The fact that these young heroes were _eager_ to play games and spend time with a grumpy old man like Morrison struck an emotional string. Guilt washed over him, and he tried not to break into a sweat.  
  
They could never spend time with _Jack Morrison_ again.  
  
The string of depressing thoughts was interrupted by a growling and empty feeling from inside of him. Hana giggled at the sound.  
  
"LOL, sounds like you're hungry."  
  
"Well, I had just woken up before you dragged me here. I have not had the opportunity to eat yet."  
  
"Then go grab some grub man, ya don't wanna game on an empty stomach. We'll wait for you."  
  
Another small smile fell on his lips, and with a slight nod, he left.  
  
It didn't take very long for him to locate the kitchen, the smell of baked goods still lingering around the room. A few Overwatch members were seated at the large table within the adjacent dining room, most of them with their food now half eaten.  
  
"Jack, where've ya been? You're usually one one the first here in the morn." It was Torbjorn, who appeared to be making pancakes.  
  
"Mission wore me out. Plus, I had promised the younger members that I'd play video games with them today."  
  
"Heh, well good ta hear yer giving yourself some downtime. You need it more than you think, Jack."  
  
"Well somebody's gotta make sure everything doesn't go to hell."  
  
The Swede's chuckled. "Ah well. Anyways, help yourself to some pancakes." Jack's stomach growled again, noisily, causing the short man to chuckle again. "Take as many as you'd like."  
  
With a thanks for his cooking, Jack took five pancakes, lathered them with syrup, sliced fruit decorating the top of the pile. Satisfied with his helping, he headed into the dining room.  
  
Inside, Mei and Reinhardt were currently seated at the table, the  climatologist acknowledging his presence with a simple wave, while Reinhardt greeted him loudly, as usual. The old German was practically always yelling.  
  
"Hello Jack! How are you faring? Was the mission a success?"  
  
It was getting easier to believe his own lie everytime he repeated it. That Jack had not died, and that he, Reaper, had fought him and lost.  
  
"Not well. Mission was a failure. Ran into the Reaper, then found the payload was gone. No serious injuries, just got a bit scratched up. Ended up sleeping in."  
  
"That is unfortunate. I am simply glad that you are alive and well."  
  
"Yeah..." and as tried to forget the truth he held, Gabriel started to bring pieces of the sugar-coated breakfast pastry into his lover's mouth. Torbjorn's cooking was as good as Gabe had remembered it being.  
  
And despite the intoxicatingly sweet melody of flavours that coated his borrowed tongue, he swore that he could taste the hint of something salty. Yet the moment he noticed it, it was gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Got a suggestion for what might happen next? Go ahead and let me know. Your ideas help fuel my creativity.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ana knows, and he checks up with Angela.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for this chapter taking so long, yet being shorter than the previous. Writing is hard.

It didn't take long for Ana Amari to notice his eyes. The next day, in fact.  
  
She held his face with a gentle firmness, he expression shifting as she gazed into his crimson eyes.  
  
"Jack." She spoke to him as if he were a child who'd been caught with his hand in the cookie jar.  "What did you do to your eyes."  
  
"Nothing." Jack sputtered. " _I_ did nothing."  
  
"Then who did this?" She stared deeply into his eyes, and he shuddered slightly. He felt as if she could stare into his very soul, see the marauder inside ally's skin.  
  
But there was the definite glint of fear in her eye. Ana didn't see though him, she was afraid for him.  
  
Jack let out a breath he didn't realize he had been holding. "Angela noticed it after my mission, after I encountered the Reaper. I feel fine Ana, don't worry about it."  
  
"Jack."  
  
"Really, I'm fine."  
  
An expected sigh escaped her lips, and she let him go. "Alright. But if something does feel off, please, tell me or Angela right away."  
  
"I... of course." The protest died on his lips.  
  
She shook her head, worry still etched itself in her face, but with a smile now shaping her lips. "You make me worry too much. Take care Jack."  
  
And with that, the two parted, heading once again to their destinations. He caught a glance of her looking back at him before turning the corner.  
  
Once he was alone, a violent cough wracked his body, a glob of black mucus coming up and into his mouth. Finding a trash can, he spat out the foul-tasting substance, anxiety causing his hand to tremble slightly.  
  
Why was he still coughing up dead cells?  
  


\-----

"We've gotten intel on the location of a Talon operation. Looks like it's guarded with armed forces, so we're going to need a good strike team to handle this." Winston checked his data pad. "Jack, have you been cleared for this mission?"

"Not sure." He answered honestly, "Angela hasn't gotten back to me for a few days now."

"Odd. Why don't you go check up on her and see if you're fit for duty?"

"Will do." He got up from his seat, and left quickly and quietly, with the stride of a man on a mission. Yet despite this confident walk, unease still ate at his gut.

He knocked at the medical bay door, but after hearing no response for roughly thirty seconds, he entered. Jack found the room empty. Even with a semi-through search of the premises, the Swiss doctor was nowhere within the ward.

With a sigh, he left the pristine white rooms, and headed to the only other place she'd likely be. The laboratory. 

"Angela?" he called out as he entered the premises. "Are you here?"

Skittering and other sounds of movement answered him, followed by the desired voice.

"J-Jack! Yes, I'm in here."

Within the edge of his vision, he saw someone bolt upwards. Turning to see, he spotted Angela by a microscope, the device surrounded by haphazardly opened documents and strewn about instruments.

"How are you feeling Angie? Haven't seen you in awhile, not since my post-mission check up."

"I'm fine."

Yet as he approached her, Gabriel could tell she was clearly lying. Her golden hair was messy and undone, sections sticking out at odd angles. Her clothing was rumpled and had the look of being worn for too long without a cleaning. And the nail on the coffin was the dark bags under her eyes. Even her grin seemed a bit tired and forced.

"Not sleeping isn't what someone who's 'fine' does."

A yawn-like sigh came from here. "Why are you here Jack?"

"I need to know if I have your clearance to go on a mission."

Angela was suddenly fully upright and alert, formerly drooping eyes locked onto Jack's unnatural vermillion.

"Absolutely not." Tone was firm, each syllable enunciate clearly and with a sense of purpose.

Gabriel was taken aback, surprised by her sudden shift in mood. After a good quarter minutes, he responded to her snap.

"Why?"

"The test results." She pulled a datapad out of the organized mess on the table. "Your cells from the discolored patch are unnatural."

He did his best to remain calm, yet still act surprised. "In what way?"

"In the sample I took, they keep a steady......cycle of regeneration and decay, the decay slowly overtaking the regeneration." She locked back onto his eyes. "How have you been feeling since the mission?"

He offered her a shrug. "Maybe a little more tired right after but..." _The black mucus. It had only happened once or twice when he'd possessed someone before, but now..._ "...nothing out of the ordinary comes to mind. I've felt fine."

Angela wrote down some notes on the datapad. "Now remove your shirt. I want to check the discolorment."

It was gone, she'd find nothing. He knew this already. So with a huff, he pulled off his plain white shirt.

With a familiar click clack of her heels, she approached him, inspecting his chest carefully.

"Where it is."

"Gone. It faded away to nothing in about a day or two."

Worry set in her face, as she noted this too.

"I'm still going to need a blood sample." Angela fetched a clean needle from a cupboard, prepping it for extraction. "How about your eyesight. Any changes?"

"None. Vision is clear."

"Hm."

This time, she took the sample from his arm, getting a good pull draw from his veins. Dabbing it lightly with a cotton ball, she then placed a small bandaid on the wound once again.

"So, am I cleared for mission taking?" Jack asked as he pulled his shirt back on. She looked at him with an exasperated expression, a small sarcastic chuckle coming from the Swiss doctor.

"Are you joking?"


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jack can't leave.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, I just wanted to apologize for my big stretches of inactivity between updates. Motivation comes in bursts.^^;

Mandatory medical leave. That's what happened. Although honestly, it came of no surprise to him. His only worry was if Angela would connect the dots.  
  
Until then, Pseudo-Jack needed something to kill the time.  
  
Dragging a hand across his face with deep sigh, and he got up from his seated position on the bed. Looking around the room that wasn't his, attention focused upon the pulse rifle laying beside the simple nightstand. He picked it, getting a good sensation in its weight.  
  
If he was going to ever get medical clearance for a mission, he was going to need to be proficient in his weapon. How could he protect this body if he couldn't stop those who wished to harm it?  
  
With the heavy rifle in hand, and a handful of ammunition on his belt, Jack set out for the practice range, making it there without a hitch.  
  
It felt off immediately, his mind and body no longer used to holding a single gun with both hands. He couldn't rush in and go hog wild, no, now his aim really mattered.  
  
It wasn't for a good quarter hour that he realized he was not alone. A familiar _click clack_ that thrust him into memory lane.  
  
"Well, that's some shit aim Jack." That unforgettable southern drawl. "Finally got some arthritis in your wrists?"  
  
His body froze up, muscles rigid and tense. Gabriel didn't know how to respond, not without giving himself away, or not being an asshole.  
  
A simple answer could do.  
  
"Not yet. They were damaged a bit my last mission, so they're sore."  
  
"Hmph." Jack took some more shots, accuracy under seventy perfect. "Must be pretty bad, especially with Angie marking you unfit for duty."  
  
"I've had worse." Not a lie, for both him and the vessel he was in.  
  
"I hear ya." Jesse agreed, taking a few quick perfect shots at Jack's targets, a smug grin on his face. Jack rolled his eyes.  
  
"Well, I'll stop trash-talking your accuracy and let you carry on. Good luck old man." And with that familiar jingle of spurs, McCree left Jack alone in the range. Gabe sighed, with a slight shake of the head. Jesse hadn't changed.  
  
Without the distracting cowboy, Gabriel's aim improved swiftly, accuracy soon reaching the nineties. He himself may have not used this type of weapon in years, but the body he possessed seemed to have a good muscle memory for it.  
  
Soon after he was satisfied by his own performance, his stomach growled. Perfect timing, as lunch would soon be on. As Jack cleaned up after his session, he wondered who would be cooking this afternoon.  
  
Reinhardt. It wasn't hard to guess, when he could hear the boisterous German from down the hall.  
  
The portions were big, to no one's surprise, but not lacking in flavour. The smell and taste brought back some more pleasant memories, and along with the chatting and friendly faces, Gabriel almost forgot he was pretending. That he was the enemy now.  
  
He pulled himself together just as Ana approached.  
  
He knew she knew what Angela had done, but likely a little more than everyone else.  
  
"Not so _fine_ , huh Jack?"  
  
A long knowing sigh, came from the old soldier. He took a bite of his schnitzel thoroughly chewing and swallowing before giving a verbal reply.  
  
"I know."  
  
"You're dying, slowly." He didn't have to look at her know the exact look of concern on her face.  
  
"I feel fine though." At the moment, a truth, but the inky black ooze he continued to spew... "I'm hoping it'll go away soon, or Angela will find a cure."  
  
"I surely hope so, I can't bear losing you again, Jack." Her voice was etched with sorrow of a reminiscent kind.  
  
Gabriel had to hold back Jack's tears, prevent the body from giving an emotional reaction. Because... he knew... Ana's fears were already true. So he looked away, staring down at the mostly eaten food below, that he was quickly no longer feeling a  hunger for. Teeth clamped over his lip, a hand holding his face, body rigid, breaths slow and uneven.  
  
"Jack, what's wrong?"  
  
He couldn't reply, not yet, still needed more time for the memories to stop flashing in his mind's eye. His breath hitched for only a moment.  
  
Her voice grew with increasing concern. "Jack? Jack! Jack Morrison!"  
  
And finally, a mixture of his old comrade's voice and time let him stash the vivid imagery away. He snapped to, as if just waking up.  
  
"Hm?"  
  
"Jack are you feeling well, what's wrong? Were you remembering... him?"  
  
_Gabriel Reyes, himself._  
  
"Yes. I miss him, too much."  
  
He let the two names switch in her sake, making his grief more sensable for the elder Amari. Emotional baggage was released down his cheeks, and he found a familiar arm around him.  
  
"It's okay to cry Jack. We all miss him, but I know you do the most."  
  
So he stayed there for a few minutes, in a trusted friends embrace, weeping quietly over unknown knowledge. Not just for Jack, but also another horrid truth.  
  
No one would miss Gabriel if they knew what he had become.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jack's health does not improve.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long wait, writer's block is a B-.

Flickering moments of a dream vanished as Jack opened his eyes, morning sun on his face. Not yet, came the thought, just lay here a little longer. He let out a deep breath, before turning his head to see the love of his life.  
  
Gabriel was still asleep, his chest rising and falling gently. An arm was splayed across Jack's chest, one he didn't dare to move. He let him rest.  
  
They still had some time before they needed to get up. So Jack decided to fall back into slumber, shifting slightly so the sun was off his face.  
  
It wasn't long before he passed out.  
  
  
...the mission was simple. Grab the device and return back to base. With a minimal chance of Talon interference, he'd decided to go on his own, while the rest of the team took care of some more important missions.  
  
What did it even do? He knew what it looked like, but it's use was somewhat unknown and vague. Perhaps it-  
  
Footsteps. Not his, and just there for a moment. He almost didn't hear them.  
  
He wasn't alone.  
  
A tension now in his muscles, he lifted his pulse rifle up, ready to fire. Eyes scanned the area, searching and searching.  
  
Then a voice. Muffled, quiet, female. Couldn't make out what they were saying, sounded far away. The volume quickly started to increase, until the young voice's words were clear.  
  
"...ack! Jack! JACK!"  
  
He woke up with a start, immediately noticing a weight on him. He groaned then looked up the heavy object, well, person.  
  
Hana Song was on top of him, fear followed by relief showed on her face.  
  
As she got herself off of him, he realized they weren't alone. Angela and Lúcio were also within the bedroom, both with similar expressions to the young Korean.  
He sat up, his head aching slightly.  
  
"What did I do to deserve a wake-up party?"  
  
"Jack." Angela locked eyes with him, her voice calm yet with a sense of strictness. "Your heart wasn't beating."  
  
Jack took a moment to think about that. As Reaper, that was the usual, many organs not seeming not needing to work. But he was in a mortal body now, and a lack of a heartbeat could cause serious damage.  
  
"I feel fine. Well, just a small headache, but otherwise I feel healthy."  
  
"Also you had this black smoke pouring out of your mouth. It was gross and smelled like dead people." Hana blurted out.  
  
Oh.  
  
"You sure you're okay man?" The DJ has a soft worried look.  
  
"Told you, I feel fine." He felt the itch of a cough in the back of his throat, but resisted.  
  
His eyes met Angela's again. She knew he was lying.  
  
"Well, if you say you're fine, I'll let you get up on your own. Come to the bay right after breakfast, no excuses."  
  
And with that, she waved the younger members out of his room, following after them. The moment he was sure of solitude, he coughed.  
  
The oily mucus was thicker than last time.  
  
Washing his hands, he tried to recollect the dream from last night. The abrupt awakening caused the images to quickly become a blur, but he could remember the emotion within it.  
  
Fear.  
  


\-------

"Your condition has worsened."

No words in reply, at least, not immediately. Composure was lost ever so slightly.

"I know." Jack replied.

"I... I don't  know what to do Jack." Her words were warped and unsteady, Angela trying her best not to break down emotionally. "You're dying Jack."

He should've seen this coming.

Reaper survived on the life of others, the ethereal energy that souls gave off. But this body was soulless, and thus, without the essence of life, was decaying.

He hadn't "eaten" in a month.

"I know." Jack repeated once again.

But he couldn't tell her that.

The doctor paced anxiously around the ward, reading and rereading the results from her tests. The woman was stubborn when it came to keeping agents, especially old friends, alive.

"There must be a solution."

Gabr-Jack knew what it was.

"Angela. Take me off base lockdown. Let me go on a mission."

Immediately she stopped and turned to stare at him, with a look that said "are you kidding me?". His own face remained serious.

"Angie, please."

Without a solution for his predicament, she bent.

"Alright, but nothing too serious. I don't want to lose you before I find a cure."

Releasing the tension in his chest, Jack sat up from the medical bed, pulling his shirt back over his head.

Finally. He could reap.

"Thank you Angie."

With a sigh, "...you're welcome Jack." She smirked, muttering something about his constant desire for some action.

Fully redressed and now free to leave, Jack left the ward, the featherweight sensation of freedom leaving him emotionally bright. The mood however, was broken with a slice of fear, when he heard Angela say something to herself as he left.

"I swear I've seen this exact condition before, but where..."


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jack finally gets to go on a mission.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize that this chapter is cut up into so many little scenes. I wanted to show all these ideas, but wasn't sure how to transition from scene to scene without 'breaks', and didn't like what I'd written between them.  
>   
> If you see any errors or parts that could use improvement, please let me know. I appreciate constructive criticism, and want to improve my writing as much as possible.  
>   
> That being said, enjoy!  
>   
>   
>  _ **EDIT:** added a small scene_  
>  _ **EDIT:** Made a small animation based on this, watch it [here](https://youtu.be/W4F7WtAGKoQ)!_

Despite Angela's approval, Winston had been reluctant about letting Jack on the mission. His health clearly wasn't optimal, but he insisted that they let him.  
  
In the end, Winston gave in.  
  


\-------

"On your left!"

Adjusting his field of vision, a swift moving silhouette was just caught in his vision. With well-aimed rockets, the target was nailed right in the chest, the force sending them to the floor. Moving towards their position, he hit a couple of headshots on the downed foe, and the agent stopped moving.

A flickering orb rose from the body's chest, and Jack darted for it. He was so hungry, he could already taste the essence of life itself.

Finally.

He grabbed the soul, before it had any chance of passing on. Hunger consuming him, he tore off his visor, and shoved the spirit into his mouth.

The effect were immediate. Jack felt alive, rejuvenated, and so so full of energy. The ash of his slowly crumbling lungs cleared up, his senses sharpening. His visor no longer felt necessary, but he put it back on regardless.

"Target down."

The talon agent's body slowly crumbled away as Jack Morrison moved onward.

\-------

The mission continued smoothly, Jack feeling ever so alive as he continued to drain the life from his former allies.

His aim and focus continued to improve, but he grew careless. Forgot what he shouldn't be doing.

As he loomed over another Talon corpse, having just consumed their soul, he heard the telltale sound of Tracer's chrono accelerator. He didn't think much of it, until she spoke.

"Jack, what are you doing?"

He froze, muscles rigid as the body he was crouched in front of began to wilt and decay. The soldier turned his head to look at her, doing his best to stay calm.

She was directly behind him, her eyes were full of fear.

"Just making sure they're dead." He lied, and for a moment, he was struck with the reminder that his life was also one. He placed a hand on her shoulder in an effort to be comforting.

"Alright." There was a slight waver in her voice, but Jack decided to stay silent. Tracer said nothing more either, and the two shared a moment of quiet unease, when he saw it.

Movement, directly behind her, and infront of him. Jack almost didn't see the gun, poised and aimed right for the young Brit. He knew he wouldn't be able to aim the pulse rifle in time, so in a moment's decision, he took the better risk.

With his already outstretched arm, he summoned his, the Reaper's iconic weapon, the hellfire shotgun into his hand. With just a slight adjustment in its aim, he pulled the trigger the moment the weapon solidified. The shot echoed in his ears, as the talon agent crumpled to the ground, their soul's bond to his body quickly becoming weak and ready to harvest.

Then he remembered the one he was protecting.

Lena stared at him, surprise and fear clear in on her eyes. And she was staring into his, her breathing irregular, a slight tremble in her body.

She took her gaze away from him to look behind her, and he quickly tossed the shotgun away, the weapon crumbling to dust as it hit the concrete floor. When she saw the freshly dead agent just behind her, tension seemed to fade, and her fear seemed to subside as she took in the situation.

"Th-thank you for the save love."

"Of course." Uncertain of what else to say, he did his best to give her a reassuring smile. He wasn't sure how fake it looked.

She smiled back awkwardly too, another moment of silence shared, before the Brit decided to blink away.

Jack was afraid.

But for the remainder of the mission, Lena acted as if the encounter had never happened. Peppy and talkative, no silent treatment.

It was reassuring, but he still felt uneasy. How much had she seen, and of that, what did she believe to see?

As much as the thought should've haunted him, in the energy of the mission, he slowly began to forget.

\-------

 "Alright team, good work securing the location, with no casualties on our side and only a few minor injuries." Winston debreifed, as the team reassembled into the dropship.

"Now I hope you're all still ready for a bit more action, as this just came in."

Typing into the panel, Winston brought up and played a just recently aired news report.

Jack recognized the location immediately.

"...a group of teens where exploring the abandoned base, when they made an unsettling discovery. Apart from some empty ammo clips, they came across the discarded cloak and mask of the deadly assassin known as the Reaper."

The report showed images of the names items as the were found. Several teammates gasped at the discovery of Reaper's items, and Tracer, wide eyed with fear, looked at Jack.

"Me and my friends were afraid to touch it, thought it might have been a trap, so we called the cops ri..."

Jack stopped paying attention, a bad headache starting to plague him. Gabriel... no _he_ should've been more careful, at least should've hidden his articles away. But he'd been too caught up in...

He felt a ghost pain in his chest, right on his heart. He winced slightly at the sudden ache, but kept his cool.

But the headache wouldn't leave. It kept throbbing, his mind full of static, damaged memories.

"-ack? Jack? Jack!"

It subsided as the call of his stolen name brought him back to reality.

"Hm?"

"Are you okay?"

"Oh, sorry, I'm fine. I was just thinking about what happened on that mission."

"Well it appears they found the device there after all. Now if we hurry and leave to there we'll likely be able to beat Talon to it. Any objections?"

Despite his strong urge to protest, Jack said nothing. Last thing he needed was more attention and suspicions.

"Alright team, prepare for launch."

And with that, everyone moved to their designated seats, as the ship started up with a low rumble.

\-------

It was like reliving a dream, ~~or more accurately nightmare.~~

Distorted memories flooded his mind, as he retraced the same steps these feet had gone before. The place was, more or less, the same as he had left it.

The signs of nothing, of a place forgotten. But he was remembering.

The trains of thought, the details Jack had observed, despite being a bit fuzzy, there were all there. The brain still had an intact memory of the night. Maybe it even had...

As he reached the area with the used shells, the memories stopped. Again, the mental static, a moment in time, missing. But the last recoverable memory Morrison had was of a sound, and sudden movement just catching his attention.

He growled in frustration.

"Jack?"

Once again, eyes filled with a paranoia looked to him. He felt... guilty.

"It's nothing. Just remembering what happened here."

Formerly lost in the sea of memories, he'd almost forgotten he wasn't alone.

"It should be this way, if someone put it back were it should've been."

Lena nodded, and the team pressed onward.

Unable to remember anything more, his head felt clear, and he started to carefully observe the surroundings. There was plenty of bullet holes and used clips from Jack rifle all over the place, he'd recognize those anywhere. Yet, of what he assumed was the assailant's? Next to none. A few fairly sizable holes, but no shells.

Something about this was alot more unsettling than he'd expected.

"Hey guys!" Lúcio called out to the team, "I think this is where they found Reaper's junk."

They headed to where Lúcio had summoned them, unease twisting in his stomach.

Sure enough, this was the place, although now a couple of pop cans littered the floor. Just as on tv, almost as he remembered it.

"Woah, is that blood?"

Without thinking, he looked, and froze. It, it was the beam he'd found Jack leaning against. A blotch of dark dried blood, chest height, a smear leading downward. He could almost see the body once again, slumped, _dead_.

A sharp pain slashed through his chest, right on his heart. Crying out in pain, he grasped at the non-existent wound, and there was a flash. A figure looming in front of him, as his body quickly weakened.

He couldn't breathe, there was so much blood. His legs buckled, as spots appeared in his vision.

Screaming only produced gurgling, mouth filling with blood, lungs too torn to function. Everything was numbing, getting colder.

Maybe he'd get to see Gabriel in heaven.

Now sprawled on the ground, he prayed for his desire to become true, as his last bits of consciousness faded to nothingness.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Recovering from his bad "headache", Jack goes in for his post mission check-up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, hope you're still loving this story! I know updates may take awhile, but I haven't forgotten this tale.  
>   
> Just wanted to let you know of a few things.  
>   
> First of all, _I've added a small scene to the previous chapter_ , so you can go back and re-read it if you're interested.  
>   
> Second, I made a small animation inspired by this fanfic. If you're interested, you can [watch it here](https://youtu.be/W4F7WtAGKoQ).  
>   
> That's all for now, enjoy!

The ringing of his own ears was the first sound he heard when he awoke. Heed throbbing and vision blurry, he tried to find his bearings, uncertain where he was or what had happened.  
  
"He's waking up."  
  
Jack groaned as he slowly yet surely came to, taking in his surroundings. He seemed to be strapped into a seat on a dropship, and-  
  
Reinhardt's face was inches away from his.  
  
Jack yelped.  
  
Once that heart attack was over, Jack finally spoke after waking up.  
  
"Reinhardt I swear you're going to accidentally kill me one of these days."  
  
That earned him a boisterous laugh from the older man. Jack smiled, then remembered (if remembered was even the right term).  
  
"Ugh, what the hell happened?"  
  
"You passed out man." Lúcio. He hadn't noticed the musician until now, the DJ playing his healing track for him. "Smoke started coming out of your mouth, you clutched your chest, then fell limp to the floor. We were scared you had a heart attack."  
  
"I'm not that old." Jack muttered under his breath.  
  
"You feeling okay?"  
  
Bits of memory were coming back to him, but at the same time, he felt the urge that didn't really want to remember. _Not now,_ at least. Right now, he needed to focus on reality.  
  
"Other than the fact I feel like I'm hungover? Yeah."  
  
"Not great, but good. Should probably go see Angie once we land."  
  
Jack nodded in acknowledgement. He spotted Lena in the back, watching him, her face displaying a mix of uncertainty and unease. Making eye contact, she looked away, pretending as if she was staring at some thing just beside him. Jack sighed.  
  
It wasn't long before they arrived.  
  
Lena was the the first to leave after landing, going as far as blinking ahead. Not thinking much of it, he headed to the kitchen first, deciding to grab a bite to eat before the check up.  
  
A simple meat and cheese would do.  
  
Once he scarfed his sandwich down, he made a beeline for the medical bay, still a little hungry, but sedated for now. The sooner he got it over with, the better.  
  
Just as he was entering, Lena was exiting. She jumped, startled by his sudden appearance, then quickly ran off without another word. Odd.  
  
Jack went in anyways.  
  
"Hey Angie!" He spotted her at her desk, back to him, clearly engrossed in her documents. She turned her head just barely to catch a glance of him, before going back to her reading. Not feeling the need to rush, Jack waited a good minute or two, before speaking again.  
  
"I'm, uh, here for my after mission check up. You wanna do it now or later."  
  
"No no, now is fine." She pulled herself away from the reading, turning to face him, a neutral look on her face.  
  
"Take a seat."  
  
Jack did as he was told, stripping down to his boxers so she'd be able to examine him fully. She looked him up, down, and all around, checking for any marks or injuries.  
  
"How are you feeling?"  
  
"Apart from the subsiding headache? Not bad."  
  
"Hmm." Angela wrote something down on her tablet, before placing it on the table and pulling out a syringe.  
  
"Just going to do another blood test, unless you object?"  
  
Jack shruggeod. "Sure, go ahead."  
  
Angela went right on ahead, carefully sticking the needle in his arm, and slowly extracting the blood from us veins. Once she acquired a good sample size, she removed the metal from inside his flesh, covering the miniscule wound with a small round bandaid.  
  
"I'll have the tests done in a few minutes, wait right here. You can help yourself to one of the lollipops if you feel the need."  
  
And with that, she left him alone, almost completely nude, in a white pristine room.  
  
Jack took up her offer, plucking a bright red lollipop from the cup. He unwrapped it and popped the candy in his mouth. Cherry flavor, just as he suspected. It was a little, unsettling, with the only sound in the room being his shlucks and sucking on the candy. Other than that, he was getting bored.  
  
What had Angela been looking at anyways?  
  
Jack hopped off the desk and decided to find out. He peered down at the messiah assorted papers and tablets.  
  
First thing he noticed was an examination of himself. Nothing stood out to him as he skimmed through the report, until the final notes caught his attention.  
  
 _Check for use of nanites._  
  
Which following reading that note, he noticed on of the open books was on the use and application of said nanites. He read the page over, which was part of a section discussing the use for living humans. Just basic stuff, nothing of interest.  
  
Averting his attention to whatever else lay upon the desk, the next item to catch his eye was a note. A small, simple, handwritten note, clearly a self reminder for the doc.  
  
 _Was Jack Morrison ever given a heavy dose of reconstruction nanites?_  
  
He heard the sound of the door opening, followed by the oh so familiar click clack of Angela's shoes. He turned away from the desk to face her.  
  
"Hm, that took a bit longer than usual."  
  
Her face was, oddly serious, as if she was about to lecture him. Just as he was about to ask why, she pulled out her blaster, aiming it for his head.  
  
"Hands up. Take a step towards me or make a move and I shoot."  
  
 _What._  
  
He raised his hands as told, confusion clear on his face.  
  
"What the hell Angela!?"  
  
"You're not Jack." She stated, a cold anger in her glaring eyes.  
  
His heart skipped a beat.  
  
 _Oh. Oh no. She knew._  
  
Despite his reason telling him to simply obey, Jack approached her.  
  
"Angela ple-"  
  
Immediately he was clipped in the shoulder, the shot clearly a warning. And to her, a sign she was right. As blood would've started to ooze from the bulletwound, instead, black smoke wisped off the gash, as it slowly began to repair.  
  
"I knew it."  
  
"I can expla-"  
  
"Shut up or I'll shoot again, and this time, I'll do more than clip your shoulder."  
  
He shut up.  
  
She took a few steps towards him, still a bit far to reach her (if he wanted to), but close enough for a clear shot. He could see the slight tremble in her hands, despite doing her best to hold her blaster steady and ready.  
  
"Now do as I say. Head towards the hardlight cell, then wait for me to open it."  
  
He sighed, obeying her command, and slowly made his way to the bay's cell, waiting by the door. Angela followed closely behind, still just barely out grabbing distance, ready to shoot.  
  
"Don't you dare move while I open this up."  
  
He didn't. After a few seconds, Angela took her eyes off him and punched in a code, causing the glass-like door to slide open.  
  
"Get in."  
  
Again, he obeyed. There was no use in running, not if he didn't want to hurt his friends, nor have this body destroyed. She closed the doors behind him making sure they were sealed tight.  
  
He could see the tension melt from her body as she was drenched in relief. And he couldn't blame her, not if he was in her shoes.  
  
But now, Jack felt himself feeling like a caged animal, the clear walls of the cell leaving his barely dressed form displayed for all who wished to see. He knawed lightly on the candy still in his mouth, his tongue now bored of its flavor.  
  
"Winston, I've got a situation." A pause, likely listening to his reply.  
  
"I've found the Reaper hiding in our midst."


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The time had finally come. Gabriel just wished it had been on better terms.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know this took way too long, but I've never finished a fanfic before, so I wanted to make sure it was good. I hope you enjoy, as I try to rip out your hearts one last time.  
>   
> Thank you so much for reading.
> 
> EDIT: I... don't like how this turned out. I want to rewrite it, maybe give it an epilogue. However, that might take awhile. The stress of writing a good conclusion to this tale has been alot, and I want to make sure I do it right this time.
> 
> I hope you understand. Thank you for reading.

This was it, the end of Jack Morrison. Despite his constant denial, he knew this day would come.  
  
He just wished it didn't have to be like this.  
  
Trapped, Jack's nearly nude body clear for all who wished to see. Not only did he feel exposed, but also felt guilty for the bare exposure of the deceased owner of this body. Almost felt like mocking him over his grave.  
  
"So let's get right to the point: are you the Reaper?"  
  
Winston questioning distracted him from his mournful thinking, and despite being hesitant, gave the gorilla a solid nod. There were a few gasps, but only from those who had just entered the med bay to see what all the fuss was about.  
  
"Next, what was your mission?"  
  
He didn't want to say, so he lied.  "None. I wasn't given any."  
  
Well that wasn't fully a lie. The reason was personal, but not Talon given.  
  
Winston seemed irritated with his response, but decided to move on.  
  
"How have you taken the form of Jack Morrison?"  
  
"I, I didn't take this form. This, this is..." he sighed. He'd already been caught lying about who he was, and felt like this truth would be better revealed than discovered. "This is Jack's body."  
  
This time, there was a collective gasp. Winston appeared unready for such and answer, scribbling notes down on the pad.  
  
"...Elaborate."  
  
"In what way?"  
  
Before Winston could come up with a reply, Angela interrupted him, slamming her hand against the hardlight wall. Gabriel had been keeping his attention to the gorilla, not  noticing the doctor's building rage. Her face was flushed red, teeth gritted.  
  
"Let him go."  
  
He, wasn't quite sure what to respond with. He couldn't, "I can't."  
  
"You just said you're possessing his body, _am I right?_ "  
  
"Well, yeah."  
  
"Then GET OUT!!"  
  
Angela's eyes burned into Gabe's, as she pounded the wall again, harder this time. Honestly, he felt a little terrified. Regardless of her demands, his answer remained the same.  
  
"I told you, I can't."  
  
"Tch. Why? Afraid I'll tear you to shreds the moment you leave the safety of Jack's body?"  
  
A little bit. "No, you don't understand."  
  
Angela looked a little taken aback, but Winston allowed her to take over with the questioning, silently writing down notes.  
  
"Oh? Explain then."  
  
He wanted to, and yet, everytime he tried to find the words, his chest tensed up, heart aching. The memories, they hurt, he couldn't, he didn't want to bear reliving them.  
  
But that choice was becoming less and less of an option as time went on.  
  
"I'd be no use. There'd be nothing left."  
  
That answer was not favorable for her. "What, you'll destroy him?"  
  
"No, the body would just be empty." His chest had a minor spasm, tempted to cry, but he kept it under wraps.  
  
"What do you mean _empty?_ "  
  
He couldn't say it, he couldn't, he couldn't, he couldn't, he couldn't.  
  
"I. This. The re-." Words were just being grasped at, unable to say the unwanted truth.  
  
"I did this, I took over Jack's body, so you wouldn't have to mo-" He stopped. Couldn't. "...Wouldn't have to go though the same pain as me." Gabe barely forced the words out of Jack's lips, his body feeling on fire.  
  
No one expected that answer, least of all Angela. The room fell silent.  
  
This time, Lena spoke up.  
  
"Why?"  
  
The question, to the answer which this whole endeavor was to keep it hidden. But much like the arrival of death itself, the time was now, whether or not he wanted it to be.  
  
Breaths short and quick, ans fighting back the primal urge to weep and wail, Gabriel finally revealed the horrid truth.  
  
"Jack is dead."  
  
He said it so quickly, the sounds of the fallen's voice just barely entering his ears. He'd said it too quietly, Angela more than just annoyed with him.  
  
"Care to repeat that, _Reaper?_ "  
  
This time, it was his turn to bruise his fist upon the hardlight walls. Tears started to spill, and not from the physical pain. With his bash, he screamed, his answer ringing in the ears of every human and creature within the room.  
  
"JACK IS DEAD!!!"  
  
Within no time, Gabriel began to witness the stages of grief around him, even with those Jack had barely knew. But his vision quickly blurred, as his floodgates began to release, the warm tears burning on his face.  
  
"He... he was already dead when I found him." The words were more sputtered then spoken.  
  
No one dared speak as he wept, some shedding tears with him, as his own memories filled his head with images of Jack's bloody lifeless body. He hated this, how he was hearing Jack weep, not himself. He'd gotten so used to hearing his voice, but once again, he felt sick hearing it.  
  
Ana was the first to speak, making her way to the front of the group, placing her hand against the crystal clear wall. "Why do you mourn him?"  
  
His immediate response was a laugh, a short, almost mocking one, as if saying "it's it obvious", despite it not being. At least, not yet.  
  
"I... I loved him."  
  
He barely said the words, unsure if any sound had come from his mouth, or if he had simply shaped the words with his sugar-coated lips. Regardless, it seemed as if his old friend had gotten message, the only one with a face of shock amongst the sea of confusion.  
  
"Well?" Angela had clearly not heard nor read his quiet statement.  
  
Face still damp with tears and eyes bloodshot, Reaper stood the body up, a slight tremor in his movement. With a shaky breath, he ignored her question, instead stating his obedience to her earlier command.  
  
"...I'll get out."  
  
  
That certainly surprised the doctor. Infact, most seemed at least a bit surprised by this sudden obedience.  
  
  
"Uh, then, get to it?"  
  
"Just promise me one thing Angela."  
  
"...I'm listening."  
  
His breathing was shaky. "Take care of his body, don't let it crumble away."  
  
She took a moment to process the request she was given, before nodding in response. "I'll do my best."  
  
"Thank you."  
  
And with that out of the way, Reaper relaxed, lowering himself and lying on the hard glass-like floor. He didn't Jack's body to get hurt on his way out, knowing it would go limp without a soul inside it, like an omnic without a power source.  
  
Taking in his one last deep breath within this body, he began to carefully separate his cells from Jack's. He didn't want to cause any damage on the way out, knowing that once he left, his nanites would no longer repair it. There was only one problem.  
  
He'd never stayed in one body so long.  
  
His cells had mingled with Jack's for so long, they didn't want to detach. He had to practically tear himself out of the body, while still attempting to leave no lasting damage. As he pulled himself out, he felt memories slipping, those that weren't his, but Jack's. He almost reattached himself, craving the imagery, but stopped himself.  
  
He couldn't live as Jack anymore, these memories weren't his to view. So, with great hesitance, he let go of his hold on his lover's mind.  
  
The last frame of the memories he saw was a face. The image was warped, shattered, decayed, Gabriel finding himself unable to describe what they looked like, but for a moment, who it was became clear.  
  
The one who'd taken Jack away.  
  
And just as his lover's life had been snatched away, the unseeable image flickered out of mind, leaving Gabriel with only a devastating sense of longing.  
  
Lingering on the loss, he'd successfully detach and left Jack's body before he knew it. To those observing, it likely looked like black smoke had just poured out of Jack's mouth and other facial orifices, and looking out at the crowd outside, some looked a little nauseous at the sight. He chuckled silently to himself.  
  
Still an inky black mass, Gabriel looked down at Jack, what he'd once been, before finally, after so long, he took his own shape.  
  
At first, he was unrecognizable, just the shape of a human. His features slowly took shape, muscles becoming well defined, hair growing and styling into its usual shape. It wasn't until his face fully formed that everyone's realization set in, despite the dead-grey shade of his skin.  
  
"Holy shit, the Reaper is motherfucking Gabriel Reyes!"  
  
It was McCree of course, who made the vulgar outburst. Of course, he wasn't the only one to immediately recognize him, but his statement confirm the horror to everyone within.  
  
The reactions were a basket of mixed fruits. Some were just surprised, others furious, with a strong sense of betrayal, disappointed in his career choices, a few happy to see him alive.  
  
Ana though? Sorrow. Tears streamed down from her remaining eye, as she gazed into his crimson. He knew she could see it, the pain that he was reliving.  
  
In this moment, despite everyone now knowing who he was, she seemed like the only one who understood. The old sniper turned to Angela, her expression remaining solemn, as she told the doctor the message only she had heard.  
  
"He mourned because he loved him. And not only that," she glanced back at Gabe, as if trying to confirm if what she was about to say was correct, "He didn't want us to mourn with him."  
  
He never had to say it, painfully force the words out, and it was a relief. He mouthed a thank you to Ana, and she simply smiled.  
  
But it was her declaration that made the truth got everyone, what Gabriel has worked so hard to prevent.  
  
They began to weep for him, mourn the loss of their comrade and friend, (and for a few, mourn him again). It hit Gabe hard, the sudden wave of wails and cries all around him, cutting into him like burning knives.  
  
As his effort, the reliving of pain, the struggles, had been for nought. He'd failed, him, them, Jack.  
  
He gave no resistance to the wails that clawed in his chest, the sounds bursting from his mouth, as the rush of emotions tore away his throat. His own body shuddered, parts of his dissolving and losing their human shape.  
  
Gabriel collapsed to the floor, his decaying body colliding with Jack's. He could feel the man's heartbeat, the warmth of his skin, and yet there was a cold emptiness to it, a lack of liveliness.  
  
He clutched onto the living corpse, as he continued to scream his pain. No longer could he tell if anyone else was crying, but for the first time in awhile, he fell unconscious to the sound of his, Gabriel Reyes', cries of loss.  
  


\-------

  
  
When he woke, Jack was gone, instead a plate of eggs and bacon with a side on orange juice was placed in front of him. Gabriel slowly got up, his body sore and worn from  crying and the uncomfortable floor.  
  
At first, his gut reaction was to panic, Jack was gone. However, as he thought about it, it was likely Angela was fulfilling his request. Despite him not knowing for sure, it brought some semblance of comfort.  
  
For now, he turned his attention to breakfast, to which his stomach growled. Smiling at his body's immediate reaction, he began wolfing down the protein-rich meal, quickly giving himself hiccups.  
  
A laugh at his mistake brought his attention to the other person in the room, who he'd not noticed until now. Ana.  
  
"Oh, didn't notice y-HIC!!"  
  
She laughed harder and he smiled, before hiccuping again. He downed the orange juice in an attempt to cease them, which to his relief, did.  
  
"So, how are feeling Gabriel?"  
  
"Apart from the hiccups, sore. Hardlight's as pleasant to sleep on as a kitchen floor."  
  
"Sorry about that, didn't want to disturb you." He smile faded a little, taking a more somber tone. "So, now what? You've been revealed, what's your plan? Going back to Talon, going rogue?"  
  
Back to questioning. Inevitable, but now he felt he had all the freedom to be honest, as if Jack's body had been shackles on him.  
  
"Neither. Honestly, I hoped that after a reveal, one on my own accord, not last night's mess... that, well, I wanted to rejoin Overwatch."  
  
Ana seemed a tad surprised, but more so glad. He could see relief pour into her, but not fully.  
  
"Well, I'm glad to hear that Gabriel. I missed you."  
  
"You too Ana."  
  
"But I'm sure you've guessed that you aren't getting out of that cell anytime soon."  
  
He shrugged, no surprise. "Pretty much."  
  
Ana gave him another warm smile, before talking into her comm link. Her words were brief, Gabe only just catching her words.  
  
 _He's awake._  
  
He glanced at the bay's door, expecting just Angela to come in, but instead, was met with much more. Not only the good doctor, but Jesse, Genji, Tracer, and Reinhardt. More happiness poured in with their arrival, as the group along with Ana approached his cell.  
  
"But you can still have guests."  
  
With that, the doors to his cell slid open, and Gabriel was immediately trapped within a group hug. He froze. He wasn't ready for the such rush of love and affection, he shouldn't be having this.  
  
"I, I don't deserve this."  
  
He started crying again.  
  
"Yes you do. I missed so much Gabriel."  
  
"Missed you papi."  
  
"It's been too long."  
  
"Glad to see ya love."  
  
Tears poured down his face, as he melted into the surrounding embrace. If this was a dream, he didn't want wake up, but it was too good to be true.  
  
Nobody was supposed to care for the Reaper.  
  
"We love you Gabriel."  
  
And yet, here he was, right in the middle of their loving embrace. Tears still pouring, but he was smiling.

Despite the tragedy, it seemed the killer known as the Reaper had finally found some joy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **THE END.**  
>   
>  I can't believe I finished this. Thank you so much for all the support, all your comments are the reason I felt excited to write every chapter, see your reactions. ( ~~Also sorry for ruining that theory Primro~~ ). Thank you so so much.  
>   
> So now, I was hoping for some feedback on what I've done and what I should do next. I'd love to hear your answers to the following questions:  
>   
>  **1.** What did you think of story? The good, the bad? Gimme a lil classic review.  
>   
>  **2.** What content would you like to see from this storyline?  
>  (E.g. Gabe's life after this, AU where Jack's soul was stolen)  
>   
>  **3.** Apart from this storyline, which fanfiction would you like to see continued/started?  
>   
>  A) [A Melody for the Missing](http://archiveofourown.org/works/11270745)  
>   
> B) [Desert Me Once, Decieve Me Twice](http://archiveofourown.org/works/8614012/chapters/19750444)  
> (Finish it and its sequel)  
>   
> C) _Rinse (off the blood) and Repeat_  
>  [Everytime Soldier 76 dies, he returns to the same point in time, just before the Reaper found him (and put him down). Through trial and error, 76 tries to survive the encounter, with only the memories of each lifetime remaining with each repeat.]  
>   
> D) _Blood Key_ (placeholder title)  
>  [Access and files are locked with the DNA of Jack Morrison, his blood being the key. When Reaper finds out who 76 really is, he captures and uses him.]  
>   
> E A different fanfic from the ones listed  
>   
> F) Something else new! (Got a suggestion?)  
>   
>   
> Also, here's some fun facts:  
> \- The original title for this fic is "Ghost in a Corpse".  
> \- This was originally intended as one-shot, but the large amount of positive feedback motivated me to make into a full fanfic.  
> \- This story was always going to have the sad ending, with the reality that Jack really is dead.  
>   
> Once again, thank you so much for reading!! I hope you enjoyed this emotional journey as much as I did writing it.
> 
> EDIT: I might make a few changes or even write an epilogue. I've never written an ending before, and looking back, I think there might still need to be some work to get done.
> 
> EDIT: ...I don't like this chapter anymore.

**Author's Note:**

> Like this story? Leave a comment! Constructive criticism is also appreciated.


End file.
